Two Day Magazine

Hamburger VS Steak

My guy thinks that Penelope Cruz and Kate Winslet are hot. That’s okay with me. They are hot, I admit it. It doesn’t bother me because I know the chance of him actually meeting Ms. Cruz or Ms. Winslet is pretty much the same as my bumping into my favorite dream-team, George Clooney and Brad Pitt. Finding an actor hot and sexy is dreamland. Nobody really takes it seriously.

Naughty thoughts about faraway celebrities, however, are one thing. It’s sort of acceptable. But, what happens if your man finds your best friend hot?

I remember when my man first met my best friend, Michelle. I had wanted him to meet her for a long time. She and I had been introduced at a seminar where we both were speakers. I was doing mine on relationships and she was talking about formal events fundraising. We became best friends almost immediately, complementing each other well with our zany sense of humor, our similar tastes, a passion for Pilates, and the belief that there was nothing we couldn’t accomplish. Another great thing was that we were both in committed relationships and wanted our respective males to meet. We would make a fantastic foursome.

Since she coordinates charity galas for a living, she had invited us to come, as her guests, to an evening event. When we walked in, there was Michelle in a white strapless dress that fluttered to her knees and sexy high heeled silver sandals. With her long wavy chestnut hair covering her shoulders, she was a vision of glamour.

“That’s Michelle,” I said excitedly, showing off my best friend as if I were a kid in first grade, “over there; she’s the one I told you about. She’s funny, she’s talented…”

“She’s hot,” said my guy appreciatively. And, it was true, she was!

Suddenly I felt two conflicting emotions:

One: pride: my best friend looks gorgeous and my man likes her. Terrific!

Two: jealousy; my best friend looks gorgeous, and ohmygod! My man likes her!  Not so terrific.

As I made introductions, I also made unflattering comparisons between her and me. She looked polished, sophisticated and coolly sexy. I looked… okay. She had on a dress that made her tan look great and showed off her curves; I had on a color that made me look paler than I am and was a little too tight over my own curves. Her hair was perfectly coiffed with soft curls; mine was pulled straight back in a tight chignon.

Michelle was warm and gracious, as always, when I introduced her to Alan, who I thought held her hand a bit longer than necessary when they shook hands. She in turn introduced us to the people at our table, including her fiancé, Stan.

“You look terrific,” I say quietly as we head to the ladies room before the event begins.

“So do you. Blue is a great color for you.” She says this as she touches up her already perfectly colored lips. Hmmm.

As the night went on, Michelle gave a wonderful presentation, made sure everyone had what they needed or wanted, and basically floated around the room like a beautiful butterfly. When a woman at our table commented that Michelle was a wonderful speaker, I told her that she used to be a teacher.

“Boy, I never had a teacher who looked like that!” whispers Alan, my own dear-love-of-a-guy.

Later that night, I lay in a steaming tub of water with a cold face cloth on my forehead, refusing his offer to massage my tensed, aching shoulders. I am contemplating the evening.

It wasn’t that I didn’t think Michelle was pretty and vivacious. In fact if Alan had put it that way, “Michelle is pretty and vivacious!” I would not be feeling so hurt. It was the word “hot” that annoyed me. Last week he had said that I looked hot. As far as I was concerned that word should be reserved for me. But... Was I making too much of one little three letter word?

During the week I do things that are uncharacteristic for me. I'm bitchy to my guy and I don't answer Michelle's calls.

I’m not good with anger and frustration so when Alan asked me for the umpteenth time what was wrong, I told him. The “hot” remark, the “never had a teacher like her” remark, the look, the lingering hand shake, all of it. I sounded petty as hell.

“You’re kidding, right?!” he says incredulously. I assure him that I’m not and tell him how hurt I feel.

“You made me feel unattractive,” I assert.

He seems flabbergasted and thinks about it awhile. Deep inside I know he didn’t mean to hurt me but he did all the same. Finally he leads me to the couch to sit down and talk. Of course, he thinks I’m making way too much of it all. Maybe I am, but when he leans in to kiss me, I pull back.

Sighing, he tells me, I’m “making a big deal out of one little word.”

Of course he thinks I’m making way too much of it all. I tell a male colleague about my "hot" problem and ask his opinion.

He replies that it’s the old "hamburger vs steak" answer.

“You know it. It’s attributed to Paul Newman. A reporter had asked him if he had ever thought of cheating on his Academy Award winning wife, Joanne Woodward. Paul replied,

'"Why should I go out for hamburger when I have steak at home?”

I tell him I really don’t get what that answer has to do with my question.

“Listen, all men would rather have steak than hamburger any time. But…sometimes a hamburger can look awfully good. Doesn’t mean a man is going to choose hamburger over steak; it just means that he can appreciate a good burger, too.”

In a weird way I understand what he means. Hamburger and steak are both hot. You may want steak but you can look at a hamburger. Even though I feel really strange comparing myself to meat, I can see his point.

When I tell Alan what my co-worker said, he, in a healthy show of support for male logic, agrees with the hamburger/steak analogy. We make up.

The next time Michelle calls me, we talk for over an hour about all the little distressing details of her upcoming seminar. I tell her everything will work out fine and not to get herself all crazy over it.

Before she rings off, she asks if I want to hear something cute.

“Guess what? My loving fiancé, Stan, told me he thinks you’re hot!”

“What did you say?” I asked a bit nervously.

“I told him,” she says laughing, “that he has good taste! What else would I say?”


© 2010 Copyright Kristen Houghton
Kristen Houghton is a Lifestyle writer and the author of the best-selling book, And Then I'll Be Happy! Stop Sabotaging Your Happiness and Put Your Own Life First